Ward White: Here Come The Dowsers

Los Angeles based musician Ward White takes a hard, long look at the false promises of Hollywood on his new concept album Here Come The Dowsers. A dowser is the name given to people who claim that they can find water or other vital and valuable things, without using proper equipment. So, it is basically peddling snake oil or other questionable practices to fool the punters. As a former New Yorker, he is still an outsider, which gives him the bird's eye view to tell the stories of all involved parties with a mix of humour, pity and wonder. The stars, extras, directors and minions are all necessary parts of the machine to get a movie off the ground and in the theatres.

White mix of art rock and crooner-infused arrangements are tailor-made to point out the cracks in the glitter-and-gold facade. Don't forget that the famous Hollywood sign is just there for the tourists. Former stars are begging for a part (Johnny Fontane), managers pay for nose jobs for their clients to look the same the competition (Pick Up Your Face), investors sink money into a flop Western (Horse Operas), and hopefuls are trying to make ends meet in a shithole apartment that looks good in hindsight (Blimp Street).

Fifteen albums in, Ward White is still full of lyrical wit, a cross between Ray Davies, Randy Newman and Leonard Cohen, and he has a well of superb melodies in his backyard that never runs dry. His phrasing is top shelf - think Russell Mael or - and this is well-deserved high praise - Rufus Wainwright and David Bowie. Here Come The Dowsers takes the scalpel to the inner workings of the system. He draws blood, but he is always at the ready to cover up the wounds with stylish bandages and stitches.

Ward White: vocals, guitars, bass
Mark Stepro: drums, percussion
Tyler Chester: keyboards